


mirrorball (when we disco)

by moonlitcloud



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, F/F, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitcloud/pseuds/moonlitcloud
Summary: It's the 1970s and Seulgi reminisces about the night she met Irene at the disco and fell in love... (based on when we disco by JYP and Sunmi)
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Kang Seulgi
Kudos: 13





	mirrorball (when we disco)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for Seulrene hope it's ok !

Seulgi walked down the cobblestone path, under the neon-lit night sky. It was a relatively quiet evening, with nothing but the flashy billboards and signs that surrounded her; they were almost blinding. It wasn’t until a soft warm glow emerged from a thrift shop window, that made her chunky platform heels come to a stop. The creamy white dress sat in the window innocuously against a glittering gold backdrop, containing all of Seulgi’s most precious memories within the creases of its silky fabric. Gingerly, she lifted her hand and pressed it on the cool glass and began to reminisce; suddenly all the memories flooded back to her.

_Lights. Colourful_ lights. They were everywhere: she remembered the rotating balls of rainbow lights, the dance floor which changed colours along to the beat, and all the blinking strings of red and green hanging lights, like it was Christmas all year round. It reflected off the gold and silver streamers and to the bedazzled bodies in matching suits and bellbottoms, shaking and swaying along under the mirrorball.

  
Then there was _her_. Irene. That was all she ever knew her as, just Irene, not even a surname. It suited her mystique, Seulgi supposed. Irene looked angelic amidst the crowds of sweaty and unrhythmic dancers, with her hair tied in a neat up-do that night, in the short white dress that resided in the thrift store now. She thought about the way Irene's feet moved lightly and gracefully against the flashing dance floor, and the bashful look in her eye when she asked Seulgi to dance with her. Seulgi never believed that one night could change everything, until she met Irene. They’d talked all night, sharing all their vulnerabilities and deepest anxieties while the DJ played the Bee Gees over the booming speakers, and then danced it all away. Seulgi had never clicked with anybody like that before, they spoke like people who had known each other their whole lives, as if they shared a brain. She didn’t want to believe in soulmates, but in that moment it felt like she had found hers. Irene was like a mirrorball in some ways, Seulgi thought. She brought out the best in people, she brought out all the best versions of Seulgi that night — the boldest, the kindest, and the most passionate. In turn, Irene shined like the disco ball on the ceiling; the discothèque may have been full of colourful lights, but none of them shined as brightly as her. Their brief relationship was also fragile like a mirrorball, it shattered into a million pieces once it broke. As disco fizzled out, so did they.

Seulgi could never forget the iron grip on her shoulders tearing her apart from Irene. It had all happened so quickly, like a blur. Three men clad in black suits dragged her away as Irene looked on helplessly with sorrow, as another man restrained her. Her lips had tried to whisper an apology, but they could hardly move. The next thing she knew, they thrust her into the alleyway against heaps of garbage bags, and warned her to stay away. Seulgi wasn’t sure what happened, but she knew it had something to do with Irene’s father, a powerful man in the crime ring and very protective over her.

It pained Seulgi to not know how Irene was doing; she wished Irene could send a smoke signal, just anything to indicate her presence, but there was nothing. Ten years had gone by already, but there wasn’t a day when Irene didn’t cross her mind. Sometimes Seulgi stepped out on her balcony and stared into the night sky, and she liked to imagine Irene — looking like a goddess in a long velvet dress and the finest jewelry — doing the same. She hoped Irene still thought of her from time to time, if she even remembered her at all.

//

By the end of the 1970s, the vibrant colours of disco were fading away. People began to shout “ _death to_ disco” as rock music was slowly taking over, and only a small handful of clubs were still trying to keep it afloat… and that’s how Seulgi wandered into in the last discothèque in the city.

There was a woman performing tonight — Irene, they called her. Just the mononym. She was alone on the stage in a form-fitting shimmering crimson dress, with red, yellow, and blue lights flashing beneath her feet as she sang. Her voice was the most beautiful thing anybody had ever heard. All eyes were on Irene, as Seulgi slowly wormed her way through the crowd. When she finally pushed her way to the front and got a good look at the singer, she froze. She could recognize the woman right away, she hadn’t changed much from the last time she saw her; she’d been thinking of that face for a decade. It felt like time slowed down as Seulgi debated on her next move. Would Irene even remember her? Did she even want to see her again? As if she were in a trance, Seulgi climbed her shaky legs onto the stage.

Irene immediately froze mid-song and gasped. The world kept spinning around them, but it suddenly felt as if they were the only two people in the nightclub. The next thing they knew, they were dancing together again, like nothing had changed. Their bodies remembered each other’s rhythms like muscle memory, each passionate touch the result of a decade-long hunger. Seulgi felt whole again, her other half had come back to her. She felt like she was in another one of her dreams, a hazy one full of disco lights and loud music.

There was too much déja vu, like the hands dragging her shoulders away again just like the previous time. Seulgi decided that this was a nightmare, it had to be. She prepared herself for another ten years of pain, longing, and emptiness. Seulgi cried out, or at least she thought she did, everything was such a blur she couldn’t even hear the music anymore. She tried harder to fight back, since she’d spent years angry at herself for not fighting back last time. As they dragged her outside again, she caught glimpses of a bald man tugging on Irene’s arm; but to Seulgi’s surprise, Irene broke free with a forceful pull. She ran out the nightclub’s backdoor, her platform heels _click clacking_ beneath her when she found Seulgi lying in the alleyway. Without a word, Irene reached out her hand and flashed a knowing look; Seulgi grabbed it without hesitation. It was just as warm and soft as she remembered.

The pair ran, ran as fast as their clunky shoes would allow them. There was no time for explanations now, and Seulgi trusted Irene with her life despite it all. She clutched the other girl’s hand harder than ever, as if she was afraid that she would lose her all over again if she let go. What a sight that must have been to the passerbys, two flashy girls running hand in hand with wide grins on their faces. Their feet pounded the pavement rhythmically, as if they were still dancing. It was the happiest Seulgi had been in ten years, and the most free Irene had felt her whole life. It didn’t matter where they were headed, as long as they were together, everything would be alright.


End file.
